That Wasn't Smart
by facingyourfailure
Summary: A Glee Project Fanfic regarding Damian McGinty's tweet about the fifty chicken nugget challenge. Cue Dameron, projectile vomiting, and comfort. Rated T for language.


**Author's Note:** This is my first time writing a Dameron fic. I figured, hey, what the hell.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Glee Project or McDonald's. This story is simply a piece of fiction, and the characters are interpretations of my mind based on real life people.

Damian was positive this was not a good idea. Really, he definitely knew it, even without Cameron, the cashier in McDonald's, and that stranger in the corner (which, that guy was sketchy, and Damian hadn't even glanced at the guy until he said _man, you shouldn't do this_) telling him so.

But you see, Damian sort of has this fierce determination about anything he does. If he gets an idea or is assigned a task, he most certainly does not half ass it. Half ass-ing something is for…well, half ass-ers. Ever since Damian was dared by a friend back in his native land to do it when he went to America to begin filming for the third season of Glee (his friend Steve could really be a pain in the arse sometimes), he decided that it was going to happen. He was going to march into that McDonald's, order fifty chicken nuggets, and see if he could do all fifty in under an hour. Or at least, that's what he assumed the object was.

"It's all about the experience, ya know, Cameron? It's like when you made me talk in that American accent, and I'm pretty sure about a million people judged me that day," Damian rationalised as he sat down with three boxes of nuggets, two twenty piece and a ten piece. The cashier seemed to be pitying him when he handed over the hot boxes, but Damian didn't want pity. He'd be okay, really. It was just a few pieces of chicken. Rather, some chicken like substitute (he'd seen McDonald's chicken nuggets before, okay, and he's still not quite sure if the meat came from actual chickens).

He was about fifteen nuggets and ten minutes in and he's sort of wishing he didn't do this. But Cameron was sitting next to him and saying something like _come on, dude, you can do this, believe, like you always say_ (and he refused to sit across from him for some weird excuse like what if Damian ate too fast and hit his gag reflex and puked all over him, but Damian didn't feel like arguing about it). He also wanted to know why Cameron was talking to him like he was coaching him through delivering a baby or something, but Damian decided he could ask him about that later. Besides, not even being half way there and feeling the heat was for quitters.

Twenty minutes later and he was so close to victory he could taste it, but he could also taste a bit of vomit because he just threw up in his mouth a little and oh God, please don't let that be a foreshadow for later. When he reached the halfway point Cameron had volunteered to get him a water bottle to help a bit, and a brunette girl watched with wide eyes, gripping her friend's jacket and saying _boy, do you think he'll make it or will he blow chunks? _and her friend just shushed her with a flapping motion in her general direction. Damian laughed a little and winked at them, and they practically swooned and fell over, and oh, did he mention he had acquired a bit of a crowd since around nugget number seventeen? It could have been due to the fact he'd been eating them like a ferocious ungraceful beast.

Finally, the last nugget was downed with a dramatic flourish, and the entire room was cheering. Damian managed a smile, because his stomach was starting to turn and he immediate knew that this was not going to be pretty. He could sense Cameron's nervousness beside him, because Damian also knew that he looked as bad as he felt right now, and they had come here in Cameron's car. Cameron had a really nice car and Damian did not want to pay to get it reupholstered.

However, he didn't fret about Cameron's car much longer. For as soon as he stepped in the parking lot his stomach gave a huge lurch, and he got out Cameron, I'm going to… before he was projectile vomiting across the parking lot. Did this count as a lose? Shit, did that really reach that palm tree? He had to have been at least ten feet away from it. Those people walking down the street sure got quite the show. It probably looked spectacular from their end, but Damian's end, not so much. He coughed and sputtered, hearing Cameron saying something unintelligible from above him, before his water bottle was being handed to him. He rinsed his mouth, spitting out the water that was tainted, and took a sip. _Small sips_, he reminded himself. Large sips would give the viewers an encore.

He didn't know that was worse: the fact that he tossed his cookies across an entire Los Angeles parking lot or the fact that he knew that wasn't going to be the last time he did that.

"Wow," Cameron said quietly after a moment, before clearing his throat awkwardly. "So, uh, are you okay now? Or is there going to be a sequel while we're driving home because seriously, man, I love you and all but my car can just _not_ rock the puke smell."

"Right now, yes. But lets go home so I can wreck the bathroom in the apartment. Consider it a christening," Damian responded, sidestepping his mess. They really needed to get out of there so no one could pin this on them, and Damian didn't want his first appearance in the tabloids to be 'Glee Project Winner Redecorates Los Angeles With His Own Vomit'. He slid into the passenger seat, and Cameron immediately rolled down his window as they pulled out.

"Fresh air's good for you. Makes you feel better," Cameron reasoned, hitting a left. Damian closed his eyes and tilted his head back, focusing on the cool breeze hitting his face, and not his stomach turning. The only other time he felt this nauseated was the last time he was sick to his stomach like this, except it was probably the worst twenty four hour stomach bug of his entire _life_. It wasn't bad enough he woke up in the middle of the night just to puke, the fact that he puked all over his bed and didn't have the energy to get up out of it, hence forth throwing up about twelve times in same said bed until his mother found him was the worst thing ever.

He set foot in the threshold of his shared apartment with Cameron, and he had never been so relieved to be home. Even if it wasn't exactly his old home, it still counted for something. Living in Los Angeles with his best mate was enough for him. He sat down heavily on the couch, and before he could even relax, he was sprinting to the bathroom because of the tell tale churning of his stomach. He's grateful that he was leaning over a toilet bowl this time, and grateful that Cameron chased after him without a moment's hesitation, resuming his duties of rubbing his back in comforting circles. It was important because him and Cameron didn't really interact like this on The Glee Project, aside from their warm hugs. Though, that night Cameron left, Damian watched him pack, biting his lip to hold back pushing tears. Cameron turned around, feeling Damian's eyes on him, and pulled him into a bone crushing hug without second thought, and Damian wasn't even ashamed of the sob he released into Cameron's neck.

Just like he wasn't ashamed of the tears burning his eyes now, betraying him and trickling down his face to mingle with the sweat forming, hands braced against the side of the bowl. Cameron continued to rub, saying things like _hey, hey now, I got you_. Damian finally stilled, and this time he was not left with a feeling of nausea boiling low in his belly, but rather an emptiness that let him know he wouldn't be sick any more tonight.

"Thank you, Cameron," He sniffed, wiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. Cameron smiled and nodded, handing him his tooth brush. Damian was relieved, relieved that Cameron didn't think he was dumb as a post or gross or anything irrational like that. Damian rinsed the head of his tooth brush, applying a generous amount of toothpaste and going to work, furiously brushing his teeth.

"So, are you going to listen next time I tell you something is a bad idea?" Cameron mused, crossing his arms and looking at Damian's reflection in the mirror, as well as his own. Damian spit, washing out his mouth to rid of the excess toothpaste. He looked up at Cameron, grinning.

"Nah."


End file.
